


Idiot God

by NovaNara



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, I can't believe that wasn't a tag already, Philosophy, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Recklessness, There is a way around Malthus, infinity war fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 13:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaNara/pseuds/NovaNara
Summary: For my birthday, the Infinity War fix-it that wouldn't let my brain go since I watched it. First Avengers fic...I'm so nervous!!!





	Idiot God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notjustmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/gifts).
  * Inspired by [“I don’t go to mythical places with strange men.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14870264) by [notjustmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom). 



> Disclaimer: I don’t own any recognizable character/detail. I wouldn’t be writing a fix-it if I did!
> 
> A. N. Today is the awesome notjustmom’s and my birthday. As a gift to my readers (and her brilliant self), I always publish a story on this day. Usually Sherlock fandom, I admit, but her amazing "I don't go to mythical places with strange men" series gave me the extra boost to write the fix-it whose plot obsessed me after watching Infinity War. Hope you enjoy! Happy birthday, heart sister!!!

 

The universe after Thanos felt…empty. The madman had promised to be random in his culling, and he really was. Some planets didn’t have so much as a virus on them anymore. Some havens had remained untouched, and if they hadn’t reached the space travel stage yet, living beings on them could easily go on with their routine, unaware of the catastrophe that had befallen the universe.

Earth, possibly because it was at the center of the storm, literally lost half of its life forms. But once again, some families were safe, some disappeared, as if they never existed in the first place. Perhaps it was what happened – the Plague worked in mysterious ways, and nobody understood how or why or who was the evil god who had unleashed it on them. 

Sophie would never have believed that she’d be of any significance on a grand scale. She’d always been a quiet woman, proper when proper still meant not making waves. She’d become a teacher – a philosophy professor in high school, not a brilliant university career, or a high paid one, but still doing something she loved. As maddening as her pupils could be, it was satisfying to do her best to teach them at least some logic. Besides, her subject meant that, while she didn’t enjoy arguing, the few times someone started a dispute with her they would certainly be losing.

She married, too. Of course she did. Tom  was adorable (even if he would be embarrassed when she used such an adjective) and they loved each other for decades. As a result, once retired she had another two generations of Lewis at her table on Sundays to smile at…until she didn’t anymore. If she’d just lost one of her family, she would have counted her blessings and stayed put. If she lost half of it,  she would have thought it fair, and maybe doubled her visits to church. But she’d lost everyone, and left alone in an empty home, she needed answers.

Of course, that wasn’t something you could google up. Someone had to know, though. And in her research, she headed over to Tony Stark. That man seemed to somehow always find himself in the middle of trouble, and boasted of being clever, so it seemed like a good first goal. Of course, the millionaire could refuse to open the door to an unplanned visit by an elderly stranger, but asking couldn’t hurt. Politeness went a long way, as she always said.

A couple of days (mostly to scour the news to be sure he would be home, because camping outside the man’s mansion in case he was who-knew-where in the world just wasn’t on), and she – in a black tailleur from her teaching days – was ringing the billionaire’s bell. 

The door opened by itself after a few seconds, which was something she wasn’t used to, but the man was famous for playing around with tech. She should have expected it, really. Still, she called hesitantly, ill at ease with just walking into another person’s home.

Of course, it was some computerized voice that answered her. “Mr. Stark is downstairs, Mrs. Lewis. You’re welcome to join him. The elevator is to your right.”

“Thank you,” she answered by force of habit, mildly spooked by…whatever knowing her name before she introduced herself. Then again, that helped with making sure you didn’t accidentally destroy the wrong person’s hideout, she supposed. She remembered the times when a computerized map led construction workers to demolish the wrong address.

Mr. Stark wore a ratty t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and was tinkering with…something. Sophie was quite certain that she would have never figured out what, even if she didn’t specialise in the humanities. “So?” he asked, barely throwin) a glance at her. His guest couldn’t decide if he was being harsh or if he was just bone tired, or maybe some combination of the two.

“Forgive me for my intrusion, Mr. Stark…” she said, ill at ease with talking with someone who wouldn’t even look at her.

He left one of his tools long enough to roll his hand in a wordless bid for her to get to the fucking point.

Well, since he wanted that… “I thought you might know who’s behind the…recent state of things. And, maybe, even how to reach them,” Sophie continued, her voice perhaps a tad louder than strictly necessary – but what else can you do with a distracted class?

_That_ got his attention. He spun around, and asked, “Why the _fuck_ would you want to do that?”

“Because I have a question, obviously,” she replied, shrugging.

“For _Thanos_?!” Stark retorted, apparently thinking she’d gone spare. Honestly, she just wanted to have. A. Word.

“Is that his name? …Actually, are you sure it’s not a nickname? Because it’s two letters short of being literally _terribly_ appropriate,” Sophie wondered, shivering a little. It would make sense…but Greek myths weren’t true, were they? I mean, it had been hard enough when a Norse God or two came visiting, but the universe had to maintain a modicum of sense.

“I can't say that we discussed that. It could be, I suppose. I was kinda busy trying…well, failing…” the man’s voice trailed out. “But, even if I knew how to reach him… I don’t think he’d bother with conversation. He would probably…” He couldn’t seem to end a sentence. Sophie had gone through that, herself. But silence had done her no good.

“I know,” she acknowledged simply, “but I still would like a chance to ask him. I’m not demanding to be guaranteed answers.”

“I still can’t –” Stark said.

This time a…raccoon? Popped out from behind a screen, huffing, “Oh, for the love – she’s not asking permission. She’s like Drax, you know. Well, but for the wanting to stab him part, I suppose, but I don’t doubt she’ll get there eventually. You _can’t_ reason her out of it. If you don’t help her, I’m going to accompany her with my ship.”  

“I thought we had a plan!” Tony protested.

“Which we both know will probably not work, so I might as well go with her. You’re not going to figure out a weapon bigger than the five fucking stones. You know that and I know that. Might as well go and have a chat,” the raccoon snapped, paws on his hips like a nagging housewife.

“I just need _time_!” the genius yelled back.

“Yeah, pity you’re not the one with the stone, uh? Seriously, go on and figure out all the combinations you want. I’m not even going to attack him…this time. Not on sight, at least I just want to see the scene, frankly. It could be hilarious, and we’re sorely missing some humor these days. Come along, lady, if you want. We’ll have fun, if it’s the last thing we do,” the sentient…creature declared, offering a paw for her to hold.

Sure, it wasn’t what she had planned, but then again, it wasn’t like she needed to especially worry about rabies at the moment – and her chaperone to be didn’t look like a drooling, insensate, bloodthirsty thing anyway.  She took the offered limb and said hesitantly, “Thank you…Mr…?”

“Rocket. Just Rocket, for friends. And anyone who has the guts to go question Thanos is a friend,” the raccoon replied.

“Thanks Rocket, then.” And that’s how Sophie found herself in a ship directed towards…she wasn’t even sure, because she didn’t dare to keep her eyes open. For all she knew, they could technically still be on Earth. Some places had changed greatly since the disasters caused by so many sudden deaths, and she doubted that Rocket could just buy a plane ticket to Oregon, if that was where Thanos resided at the moment, so using a spaceship wasn’t enough of a clue. Not that the place mattered, as long as she could still breathe and talk – and she could. Besides, with the humongous being in front of her, she couldn’t spare any part of her visual field for the background. She’d always known that humans were an insignificant part of the universe, in the grand scheme of things, but she’d never felt more like a literal ant. Oh well. She still needed to be heard.

Sophie turned back, unsure. The raccoon leaned against his ship, arms (forepaws?) crossed, and observed her, smiling encouragingly. It was okay. She could do this. God or devil or whatever else, this humanoid had a mouth, and hopefully the brain to answer.

Thanos was sitting, and seemed lost in contemplation – or at least he hadn’t deigned to react to their arrival, which wasn’t odd. He probably had a hard time noticing them at all, like she wouldn’t see or bother with a ladybug, unless it was walking over her food.

She didn’t let that deter her. She came as close as she dared, and said loud and clear, “Thanos…Mr? Sir? Lord?”

She was afraid for a moment that he couldn’t hear her, the sound still too weak or in the wrong frequency for the alien, but he turned his eyes to her. That was something.

“Thanos,” he said, shrugging, as if the power he wielded was nothing. “But I don’t recognise you.”

“I didn’t expect you would. I’m…well, my name is Sophie, but I’m nobody of importance. Never was, and never will be. But I have a question, if you’re not busy at the moment. Please,” Sophie replied, using all her self-control to avoid wringing her hands. She didn’t want to come across as pitiful and terrified as she felt. When he nodded, she asked simply, “Why?”

Thanos didn’t demand that she elaborate. It was quite obvious what she meant. It was a surprise, though, to have someone not attacking him, not yelling accusations or spitting judgement for his actions…just wanting to know. He might as well tell her. It wouldn’t change anything.

“Because I made a promise. Everywhere in the universe, too many people were suffering. Starving, dying because of a drought, or an epidemic, or sheer hunger. And – it was always the same people. Doesn’t matter which galaxy, or the local politics. The bottom of the ladder died, simply because there isn’t – there would have never been – enough for everyone. People outnumbered resources, plain and simple. I murdered half of the universe at random because this way, nobody will die from sheer lack of the basics. And because, this way, at least some of the bastards who thought they were safe and could walk all over everyone else have been erased from existence. Honestly, if I were cruel I’d have made the process much slower. I could have, you know.”

She didn’t interrupt his monologue, mostly because she was stunned. But suddenly, she was very happy that he was sitting, because this helped her mindset. She straightened, as much as she could, (obviously, he still towered over her several buildings’ worth, but it was a question of principle), cleaned for a second her glasses on the hem of her shirt. Finally, she took a deep breath, and replied sharply, “A+ on Malthusian theory, B for effort…I’m assuming you didn’t have the power to do this as soon as you promised… and E on logic and creativity. That means gravely insufficient, by the way. Seriously, what were you thinking? Or better said, _were_ you thinking?” He could destroy her, she didn’t care. She’d never cared.

Rocket whistled in admiration, but his cheer was covered by Thanos’ roar. “How _dare_ you?”

Sophie didn’t cower, or apologise. She had a last lesson to give and by God, she would teach it. “I am a teacher, so it’s professional bias, I’m afraid. I do give people marks. But let’s discuss your plan. So, your problem is – resources grow arithmetically, people grow geometrically, and so there’s a general lack of resources. That’s your Malthus there, dear, and you have it very clear. Your solution is…killing people? You have two chances. Either the remaining people go back to reproducing – quite quickly, may I add, people have a tendency to want to reaffirm life after a funeral – and in time, you’re back exactly where you started. And then what? You cull half the universe again? That’s not a solution, is it? Or you killed everyone of child-bearing age and lower, and so the population of the universe will extinguish in a generation. In which case it would have been kinder to just wipe them all together, don’t you think?”

She talked so quickly – and Thanos seemed so taken aback by her words – that he didn’t cut in, either. As soon as she paused – out of breath, she couldn’t manage the tirades of her classroom days anymore – Rocket straightened, and remarked, “She does have a point, you know. Though periodical murder sprees aren’t a problem for you, probably. Not with the time stone. Seems like your style.”

“Why, what would you do? Let the worlds continue as they are?” the blue-skinned alien snarled.

The teacher rolled her eyes at him. She couldn’t help herself. “The obvious way you surpass Malthus’ problem is – progress. Engineer better resources. Why do you think we’ve been tinkering all the time, trying to obtain plants more resistant to parasites, or energy from renewable resources, or any number of things? We want to obtain geometrically growing resources, too!”

“It didn’t work that well, did it?” Thanos sneered.

“We’re not God,” she replied, at the same time Rocket pointed out, “They don’t have a reality stone. You could imagine Drax into brickwork.”

 “So you _can_ create, not just destroy. And it didn’t come to mind that you could imagine mold that’s actually tasty food. Okay, no, that might be too much for anyone – but something along those lines,” Sophie said, glaring at this…this idiot God.   

“I need _only_ the reality stone?” the alien said, staring at his gauntlet. No, no, he needed all them for the effect to be instantaneous in the universe…but what if he could start something, maybe in a hundred key worlds, the slow way, like he’d been doing, and trust their dwellers to carry it along with them. Who would abandon an easy energy or food resource back home? True, it had to be something – or a couple of things – that could be obtained and renewed pretty much in every condition, but he could think about it now…and once he had figured it out… He could etch it somewhere back in time – with the time stone he definitely could – and roll time back. He didn’t need the soul stone. He didn’t need to kill Gamora. He didn’t need – so many fights, so much blood – for nothing.

Waking up in a past future, Sophie Lewis never knew about the philosophy lesson that saved the universe. That didn’t matter, anyway. She had her grandkids to play with. The only one who realised – once the time stone found its way back to his neck – was a not-exactly-resuscitated, smug Sorcerer Supreme. Sometimes you need to give things up to have them back.   


End file.
